Father's Shadow
by Cadilus
Summary: The coronation of Eska and Desna is uneventful, but they can sense the underlying tension in the gathered crowd. They won't show it, though - they're used to hiding things from adults. They'll be fine, so long as they don't die of boredom. Oneshot.


They decided at age twelve that on the day of their coronation, Eska would be the observer. Desna has the better eye from a distance, so normally she'd let him do it, but they'd used a staring contest to decide, and she always won those.

A silly way to determine something like this, appropriate to the children they were. Nowadays, she would suggest they each choose a man to do the staring for them.

The room is dark and, apart from Ruskan's incessant droning (though surely their Waterbending tutor would call it reverent speech), completely silent. Just how Eska likes it, though she's not used to sitting on a throne. The ice beneath her is suitably hard, but the back was clearly made for someone _much_ taller, and she feels like a child or a fake. A disconcerting feeling, to say the least. Eska reminds herself that this is how most people feel around her, and the aches go away almost immediately.

The room is also full of people. Mostly people from her nation — _my subjects now, mine and Desna's_ — but a few from the Fire Nation, including an old man with a nasty scar on his face who had supposedly flown in on a dragon. And a certain relative from the South who will most definitely confront them today.

All eyes are on her and her brother.

This day came much sooner than she expected. They're only sixteen — Desna being a few minutes her senior — and everyone thought that Father would rule for another two or three decades. His politics might be his undoing before then, but he certainly wouldn't have stepped down willingly. The other Northern chiefs had praised his spirituality and remarkably good health, acknowledging with awe that he might live to be over a hundred.

_Little did they know_.

Blocking out Ruskan's voice entirely — Desna can tell her if she misses anything important — Eska withdraws into her thoughts. She's not sure how she feels about the day Father died. Helping him defeat Korra, their peasant cousin, was gratifying after what the bitch did to Eska's marriage. What scared her was how unquestioningly she'd done it. Father rarely asked much of them directly, but so much was implied, _assumed_, that it unsettled Eska to remember how infrequently she and her brother could hide from that subtle command. That it wasn't until he'd bonded with a world-destroying spirit that they'd even considered turning on him…

And what he'd planned to do at the end, what he'd tried to do? Even by _Desna's_ standards the destruction of the world is pathetic.

But what's done is done, and the boring world is back to its uneventful normal.

Desna glances at her. "Thinking about Father again?" he asks, his lips barely moving.

Eska blinks once in affirmation. "He's left us in a tough spot."

Her brother's lip twitches, and Eska almost winces. He only does that when he's bored enough to kill something. "Excitement, you think?"

_If only_. "I doubt it. For today, yes. And for a couple months while the troops return, to make sure we don't try anything. But after that they'll probably leave us alone."

"…And you like that idea?"

Ruskan intones something about duty before launching into _that_ story about a girl who became the moon. Eska narrows her eyes, furious that the old Waterbender chose to tell such a tale, abridged or not. Even when she was a child she'd never been fooled into believing that it was true.

Eska closes her eyes, taking several breaths to calm herself. It wouldn't do to explode _during_ the ceremony. "They won't bring our kind of excitement. Most people are painfully boring."

She can tell Desna is hiding raucous laughter by the way his head dips.

Fortunately, the ceremony isn't much longer. Only a few minutes later, Ruskan bows before the twin thrones and raises his arms. "Tui and La in harmony. Yue above us. To the Northern Water Nation and its honored guests, I present your new chieftains, Desna and Eska, son and daughter of Unalaq."

Polite applause. She can tell Desna wants to go practice what he calls his "shadowbending" and sighs meaningfully. "They'll want us to go to a reception, remember?" her sigh says.

Desna groans.

* * *

To Eska's immense relief, few actually approach them. Most are functionaries and ministers, along with a pair of generals swearing their loyalty and praising their Waterbending skills. One, a young man less tactful than the rest, expresses his pride in serving the teenagers who fought and nearly defeated the Avatar. His boldness and utter stupidity arouse Eska's interest, but only for a moment. _Too soon after Bolin_.

There is one guest, though, who won't leave without a real conversation.

"Desna, Eska."

"Uncle," Desna says with a slight bow. Eska copies his motion in silence, her eyes never leaving Tonraq's face.

Their uncle must believe he's hiding his feelings for their sake. He keeps his expression smooth to mask the tension in his jaw and cheeks, his eyes half closed to shade their angry glint. She can read what he's feeling with ease, though it takes several seconds to understand it all: fury at Father, anger at her and Desna for trying to kill his (_scheming bitch of a_) daughter, distrust of the North, and guilt for putting Father's sins on their shoulders. A lot to hide.

She wishes he wouldn't.

To Tonraq's credit, at least he's _skilled_ at hiding his true feelings. "I would like to re-enter an alliance with the Northern Water Tribe and resume trade. Much like our alliance was before, but we'll revisit the question of military access. My people won't feel comfortable seeing any fleet from the North in our waters in the foreseeable future, and nor will I."

_Is there anything as boring as politics?_ "Of course, Uncle," Eska says. Desna's fingers brush a question against the end of his sleeve. She flicks her fingers in Tonraq's direction. _With caution, Desna_. "When would you like to hold these talks?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

_He will not take no for an answer, but refuses to frame it as a command. So like Father_. Eska narrows her eyes. Desna looks at her, helping her take on the burden of her sudden anxiety before returning his impassive gaze to Tonraq. "We would be overjoyed to repair the broken bonds with our sister tribe."

Eska's chest tightens, and she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Desna's capacity for humor in any situation never fails to astound her.

Tonraq nods, then pauses. His resemblance to their father is clear, but suddenly Eska can see the difference. His face is open now. "I know what my brother was like. If he could treat me and Korra the way he did, he could do the same to you. I'm not ready to forgive you for your role, but we're still family, and in the South at least that still holds meaning. Should you need anything, contact me."

He's hiding something, but he turns away before Eska can read it in his face. She and Desna watch him all the way to the food table, where he falls into conversation with the scarred lord from the Fire Nation.

No one else comes to speak to them, and neither one is quite ready to eat. It's several minutes before Desna chooses to break the silence. "It's rare that I can't read you, sister. What are you thinking?"

She considers his question for a moment. One final scan of the hall. Now that she's used to it, she finds the weight of so many eyes on her surprisingly refreshing. Much easier to bear than Father's alone. "They expect peace and submission from us while the world adapts to what our family did. I don't like it, but at least while Father's legacy hangs over us they won't ask for much else."

Desna gives her a small smile. "It'll be nice not to have any expectations for a few years."

He's quite right. If nothing else, now she'll have time to visit those ice crags she found deep in the eastern tundra. "Indeed. Let's make the most of them."

* * *

A/N: Because frankly, why not. :)


End file.
